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If Hermia meant to say, Lysander ly'd.
But, gentle friend, for love and courtesy
Lye further off; in human modesty
Such separation, as, may well be said,
Becomes a virtuous bachelor and a maid :
So far be distant; and good night, sweet friend :
Thy love ne'er alter, till thy sweet life end !
Lys. Amen, amen, to that fair prayer, say I;
And then end life, when I end loyalty!
Here is my bed : Sleep give thee all his rest!
Her. With half that wish the wisher's eyes be
Puck Through the forest have I gone,
But Athenian found I none,
On whose eyes I might approve
This flower's force in stirring love,
Night and silence! who is here?
Weeds of Athens he doth wear :
This is he, my master said,
Despised the Athenian maid ;
And here the maiden, sleeping sound,
On the dank and dirty ground.
Pretty soul! she durst not lye
Near to this lack-love, this kill-courtesy,
Churl, upon thy eyes I throw
All the power this charm doth owe;
When thou wak'st, let love forbid
Sleep his seat on thy eye-lid.
So awake, when I am gone ;
For I must now to Oberon.
Enter DEMETRIUS, and HELENA running. Hel. Stay, though thou kill me, sweet Demetrius. Dem. I charge thee, hence, and do not haunt me
thus, Hel. O, wilt thou darkling leave me? do not so. Dem. Stay on thy peril; I alone will
[Exit DEMETRIUS. Hel. O, I am out of breath, in this fond chace ! The more my prayer, the lesser is my grace. Happy is Hermia, wheresoe'er she lies; For she hath blessed and attractive eyes. How came her eyes so bright? Not with salt tears : If so, my eyes are oftner wash'd than hers. No, no, I am as ugly as a bear; For beasts, that meet me; run away for fear: Therefore, no marvel, though Demetrius Do, as a monster, fly my presence thus. What wicked and dissembling glass of mine 370 Made me compare with Hermia's sphery eyne ? But who is here? Lysander! on the ground ! Dead ? or asleep? I see no blood, no wound:Lysander, if you live, good sir, awake. Lys. And run through fire I will, 'for thy sweet sake.
[Waking: Transparent Helena ! Nature shews art, That through thy bosom makes me see thy heart. Where is Demetrius ? Oh, how fit a word Diij
Is that vile name, to perish on my sword !
Hel. Do not say so, Lysander ; say not so: 380 What though he love your Hermia? Lord, what
Yet Hermia still loves you : then be content.
Lys. Content with Hermia ? No: I do repent
The tedious minutes I with her have spent.
Not Hermia, but Helena I love :
Who will not change a raven for a dove ?
The will of man is by his reason sway'd;
And reason says, you are the worthier maid.
Things growing are not ripe until their season ;
So I, being young, till now ripe not to reason; 390
And touching now the point of human skill,
Reason becomes the marshal to my will,
And leads me to your eyes; where I o'erlook
Love's stories, written in love's richest book.
Hel. Wherefore was. I to éhis keen mockery born?
When, at your hands, did I deserve this scorn?
Is't not enough, is't not enough, young man,
That I did never, no, nor never cạn,
Deserve a sweet look from Demetrius' eye,
But you must fout my insufficiency?
Good trotlı, you do me wrong, good şooth, you do,
In such disdainful manner mę to wop.
But fare you well: perforce I must confess,
ļ thought you lord of more true gentleness.
Oh, that a lady, of one man refus’d
Should, of another, therefore be abusid ! [Exit.
MISS EARRE, V in the Character or HERMIA.
Starting from Sleep)
me Lipander, Hell me do this beauti
2.4. pluck this crawling lespeno jim my Boost
London Printed for J.Hell Britith Library Strand August 59 1785.